


The Wakening

by MaxxieGalaxy



Category: South Park
Genre: Gore, Horror, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Serial Killers, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxxieGalaxy/pseuds/MaxxieGalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A serial killer is leaving a trail of bodies all over Colorado. When Craig and Kenny find one of the victims around South Park, they don't realize they're going to get more involved than they would like to.</p><p>Edit: now with illustrations! I don't know if I'll illustrate every chapter but yeah it's a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burning

**Author's Note:**

> This story will deal with some dark subjects, I can't tell much to not ruin the mystery but I will tag accordingly as the story progresses.  
> I'm so excited to share this story with you guys, thanks for reading!

 

When we grow old, it is often expected of us to achieve great things in life. “Go to college.” your parents say. “Find a good job.” they say once you’re in college debt for life. Everywhere, you’re reminded that you have to succeed, change people’s lives, get wealthy, achieve something. All I wanted was a nice, boring, uneventful life where I would fulfill the bare requirements to live comfortably. A small house, a job that I would forget everything about as soon as I step through my door and flop into my couch, turn the TV on and enjoy a cool beer. Really, it’s not asking much. But I guess life has ways to ruin your plans in the most unexpected ways.

  
This is with this mindset firmly implanted in my head that I find myself sitting on a boardwalk and flicking pebbles in the murky water of Stark’s Pond. The air is unusually hot for our region and I’m grateful for the shadow cast by the trees bordering the water. I discarded my hoodie and rolled up my jeans so my feet are dangling in the water. Kenny is sitting next to me and is just finishing rolling his joint. He tucks the joint between his lips and lights it with his old man’s rusty Zippo. He grins at me.

  
“Relax dude, school’s finally over, get that stick out of yer ass.”

  
I sigh and lean back on my hands. Today was our last day of school as juniors and I can’t even appreciate it as much as I should. I don’t care much about school and I don’t care much about summer holidays. Kenny passes me the joint and we stay silent for a while, enjoying the rustle of the leaves above us and the cool water against our calves.

  
This is why I like spending time with Kenny. He just gets it. That sometimes people need some quiet in their life. I can’t really get that with my other friends. Clyde and Token like having loud and animated conversations together. Tweek doesn’t talk much but he’s constantly twitching, and Jimmy tries to turn everything you say into a shitty pun. I like them, I really do, but sometimes they can be draining.

With Kenny, it’s different. I think he spent all his childhood hiding in his parka because he didn’t want people to notice him. Like me, he’s always been the quiet one amongst his friends. That’s probably what drew us together over the years.

I sit up and wipe the sweat out of my brow. I can’t remember the air feeling so hot and heavy in South Park. We mountain people are not made for such a weather. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kenny getting up on his feet.

“I can’t stand this anymore, I’m taking a dip.” He says while removing his tank top and jeans.

I eye the water warily and twist my mouth. It is not only cloudy and green but also covered in lemna and other kind of plants that stick to you as soon as you touch them.  
“Don’t come crying when you’re covered in leeches.”

“Ah, I’ve had worse.” He shrugs. I barely have time to stand up and scramble away from the edge when he breaks into a run making the wooden boards shake and then he dive-bombs into the water. What was I saying about our quiet friendship again?

I quickly check my legs and sigh of relief when no leech is found dangling from my calves.  
Kenny’s head emerges from the water. He’s covered in green dots.  
  
“That doesn’t count as your annual bath, you know.” I say.  
  
“Eff you Tucker.” He quips. “I showered like three days ago.”  
  
I snort. His family can’t afford to shower every day. I should feel bad about it but Kenny’s attitude regarding his social class is so laid back that it’s difficult to take it seriously. There’s also the fact that most of the time, I have no idea if he’s being serious or not.  
I watch him swim for a while. I almost want to join him, I can feel sweat running down my skin and it’s becoming unbearable. Still, the murkiness of the pond acts like a repellent on me and I just sit there for an hour while Kenny lets himself float on his back.

 

  
  
“You watched the news last night?” He asks.  
  
“No, I went out.” Bowling with Clyde and Bebe was awkward and I felt like a third wheel all night but I guess we had fun.  
“They found another body.”  
  
This catches my interest. “Really? Where?”  
  
“Colorado Springs. Same as the others, with the weird stick totems and the rocks.”  
  
The first body was found last month in Pueblo. The media went mad about it because it looked like some sacrifice, they said. The poor guy had been cut open and surrounded with little totems made of wood sticks and flat rocks. The second body was a similar case found outside of Fort Collins, a teenage girl who’d been missing for three days before they found her.  
  
Despite the late afternoon heat, I can’t help the shiver running down my spine. “That’s some Blair Witch shit going on there, I tell you.”  
  
Kenny hoists himself out of the water and sits next to me.  
“You’d think the killer would have ran out of state by now. I bet the FBI is already after his ass.”  
  
I arch an eyebrow. “His? Why not her?”  
  
“Because eighty-five percent of serial killers are men so I assume this one is too.” Kenny replies.  
  
“You know, I’m not even going to ask why you know this.”  
  
“I have strange interests.” He shrugs and pokes me with his elbow. “I could tell you all you want to know about forensics”  
  
“Ew, gross. Keep your sick facts to yourself.” I admit, gore isn’t my thing. I don’t faint at the sight of blood but I remember being thirteen and Clyde showing me this rotten.com website. I had to run to the toilets on jelly legs after that, not one of my proudest moments.  
  
“Come on, I know you’ve marathoned NCIS, don’t be a baby.”  
  
“Clyde forced me.” I deadpan.  
  
“Eh. Whatever.” He then drops the subject and starts rolling another joint. Where the hell does he get that, I have no idea but why would I pry too much into Kenny’s business when I can get a free smoke? We share the joint and chat idly until the sun is fading behind the trees. I take some time to appreciate the flecks of oranges and reds reflecting on the water, it’s quite mesmerizing.  
  
After a moment, Kenny stretches and starts gathering his belongings. At this point, we have a severe case of the munchies and we both agree to head back to town. I even offer to pay for some City Wok if he agrees to drive us there. Kenny never says no to free food.

  
Stark’s Pond is situated outside of town and in the middle of the woods that surround our little mountain town. Teenagers usually come here on the weekends to take a dip, sometimes people bring tents and start a campfire. I’m surprised today’s been calm considering the scorching heat and the fact that the summer break just started. Kenny’s car is parked near the road and it’s a long trek to get to it.  
  
The sun has sunk low behind the Rockies and we have to use our cell phones lights to guide us through the path in the woods. Despite the growing darkness, the heat of the day doesn’t seem to have dissipated at all. Combine that with the humidity of the woods and it quickly feels like I’m suffocating as I trail behind Kenny. This is Colorado, not some rainforest, dammit, I shouldn’t have to suffer through that.  
  
My foot hits a rock protruding from the ground and I collapse on my hands and knees.  
I glare at Kenny when he turns around and laughs at me but I don’t think he notices it in the dark. I dust my jeans and hurry to catch up with him but then my nose encounters the back of his skull and I growl in pain.  
  
“Dammit Kenny, get moving.”  
  
“Can you see that?” he asks.  
  
“See what?” What if my nose is broken? “I think you broke my nose.” I whine. Okay, maybe it’s not broken, but I have a low tolerance for pain and I’m a slight hypochondriac.  
  
“Shush you big baby, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Kenny pats my shoulder. Once again, I don’t know if he deliberately ignores my glare or if he can’t see me.  
  
“I think I saw something over there.” He points to a place on our left, in the middle of the woods.  
  
I squint and see nothing. “It’s not funny Kenny.” My shoulders tense, I hate this kind of pranks. “If you think I’ll belie--.” Something flickers between the trees.  
“See, I’m not lying. You saw it too, right?”  
  
I nod. Kenny doesn’t even wait for me when he starts walking toward whatever is in the woods. I’d like to say that I follow him because I’m curious too, but that would be lying. The truth is that flashes of our earlier conversation come back to me, serial killers, the Blair Witch, things lurking in the woods and grabbing your ankle when you try to run away from them. I watch too many movies.  
  
Something is definitely flickering in the woods, a few hundred feet away from the path, and Kenny is now dashing for it. I want to yell at him to stop this nonsense, let’s go back to the car and forget about it, but I don’t dare make any more noise than my feet hustling whatever plants are on my way. Damn Kenny and his recklessness.

  
You can watch all the films in the world, youtube videos, documentaries, snuff movies, crime series, and what else is under the sun, but nothing will prepare you for the unfortunate moment when you stumble upon an actual murder scene.  
It actually takes me a moment to capture the scene as I stay frozen on my feet. I can distantly hear Kenny swearing next to me but I don’t pay attention to him. A girl is lying on the forest floor. The light source that first caught our attention comes from a candle, tucked into her open mouth. red wax is dripping all over her face. She’s been cut open, her insides spread on the floor on her sides. All around her, piles of flat stones and wood sticks tied together in small totems add the final horrifying touch to this nightmarish view.  
Despite all the gore in front of me, my gaze keeps going back to the lit candle. It can’t have been here for too long. The killer is still out there, not far away, probably lurking in the shadows, ready to get us.

  
I must be shaking because I can feel Kenny’s hands trying to steady me. I’m going to be sick. I need to get out of here. I turn around and manage a few steps away from the scene before I collapse on my knees and empty my stomach.  
  
I must zone out after that because I can barely notice that we’re running back to the car. I distantly register that Kenny is calling 911. His voice is shaky when he describes our discovery and gives indications on our location. Stupidly, I worry that the police will find that Kenny has a weed stash on him and weakly voice my concerns about it.  
“Cops don’t give a fuck about that when there’s a murder.” He says. Still, he slips his pouch into the front of his jeans.  
  
“The candle. It was lit. He’s out there.”  
  
Kenny frowns. “I know. Which is why I’d like these goddamn cops to get their ass here as soon as possible. Let’s lock ourselves in the car for now.”  
We do just that and wait for the police to arrive. The silence is unbearable and I turn the radio on after a few minutes of sitting in Kenny’s old car. We keep the windows closed and the air inside is stifling to the point I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. There’s a sharp pain in my chest, my t-shirt is drenched in sweat and I can’t fucking breathe despite my chest heaving up and down quickly. I’m choking oh my god I’m cho--  
  
“Craig!” I’m suddenly reminded that Kenny is with me. “Craig look at me. You’re having a panic attack.” I turn around and I can see concern in his eyes. “You’re fine, you’re safe.” I don’t believe him but I still nod. “I’m going to breathe in and out and you need to do the same, ok? Can you do that?” My breathing is still erratic, but I try my best. It takes me a few minutes to not feel like I’m suffocating, and a few more minutes of copying Kenny’s breathing until I can relax in my seat.  
  
“Thanks.” I’m still shaky but Kenny managed to ground me into reality for now. “How did you know what to do?” I ask.  
  
“Lil sis’ used to have night terrors when she was small.”  
  
We can hear sirens in the distance and soon the police arrives. I mostly stay silent, only replying in short sentences to the questions they ask me. I leave all the talk to Kenny. What we found shook him too he seems to deal with it much better than I do. He explains Sergeant Yates how to get to the scene and how we found it. Then I am taken to an ambulance and a nurse hands me a drink. I was expecting one of those survival blankets like in the movies but I’m glad when none is offered to me.  
  
Our parents are contacted and an officer takes our details for further investigation before we’re sent home. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see my parents in my life when they come to pick me up. The McCormicks are here too, Kenny’s mom is holding him by the shoulder as if she needs to protect her son from the police. If the rumors I’ve heard about the McCormicks are true, she has good reasons to be wary of cops.

  
On the ride home, I curl up in the back of the car and don’t say a word. I’m thankful my parents can respect that I need a moment to digest all that happened; they got enough details from Yates. That’s how we are in the Tucker family; we don’t talk much. Sometimes it can be an hindrance but right now I’m fine riding in silence, with only the car radio playing outdated mullet rock and the engine purring. I look out the window and gaze at the trees surrounding the road. If I keep my eyes wide open, maybe I’ll be able to distinguish a shadow moving in the darkness.  
  
To my relief, I see nothing but trees faintly lit by the headlights of the car. I cross my arms and hug my chest. Summer break has only started a mere hours ago and I already feel like it’s been spoiled.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here!  
> Where Craig grows tired of the question "How are you"  
> A big thank you to the people who left comments, it's really encouraging ^^

The following days in South Park look like a frenzy. The few motels surrounding the town are overcrowded with federal agents and journalists. I avoid the living room when my parents are watching the news on the local channel. I’m still queasy whenever the murder is mentioned. To be honest, I haven’t felt great in the past few days.

I wake up from nightmares, and I’m suffering from a constant headache and nausea.

The police went to question me one more time to fill in details but I didn’t have much to add to what Kenny told them that night.

I put my remote down and smirk at Clyde when he curses for losing again at Super Smash Bros Brawl. He’s been coming to my house a lot since the murder, I suspect him of mothering me a bit but I don’t say anything. I’ll take that as his payback for all the times I rubbed his back while he was crying as a kid. Clyde’s always been an overly emotive guy. I can still see his eyes shining with tears whenever there’s a sad part in a movie. I had to make him hot cocoa last winter when one of his favorite video game characters died at the end of the game he was playing. He tends to hide this side of himself but we’ve been friends for so long that I can read him like a book. At school, Clyde’s more of a womanizer, strutting the hallways in his varsity jacket and laughing loudly in the cafeteria during lunch time are his trademark. I would call anyone else acting this way a douchebag but I know Clyde is much more than that. He’s a good friend, actually he is my best friend and has been since kindergarten.

“I’m bored,” he says nonchalantly. He’s definitely being a sore loser but I decide to indulge him. We’ve been playing for hours and I need a break, my vision is starting to blur.

“Wanna do something else?”

I’m sprawled on my belly on my bed, Clyde is sitting next to me, propped against the wall. I have to crane my neck to look at him.

“Dunno. I was uh--. Nevermind.” He mumbles.

“What.”

Clyde rubs his neck and looks at me sheepishly. “I was just-- worried about you? I guess?” So he was definitely mothering me. “After what happened the other day. I would have freaked out too. So...How are you?” he finishes awkwardly.

I stay silent for a moment, pondering on how I actually feel. Not that great, to be honest, so I decide to lie. “It’s been rough but I’m doing better.” Clyde’s a worry wart and doesn’t need to lose his beauty sleep over my problems. He’s doing more than enough by just being there and playing video games with me. If I let him, Clyde would pamper me until I’m suffocating from all the attention.

“’Kay, good, good.” He reaches out and pats my back. “That’s good, man.”

I turn my head and roll my eyes so he doesn’t see me. We end up watching a movie before Clyde has to go back home for dinner.

***

I jolt awake in the middle of the night after a nightmare. I used to have a lot of bad dreams when I was a kid but it calmed down when I grew up. I didn’t miss the feeling of waking up in a cold sweat, eyes wide open in the darkness of my room, half expecting to get eaten alive by whatever creature is hiding under my bed. I glance at my alarm clock and the green digit numbers tell me that it’s three in the morning. I hesitate before getting up, afraid something will grab my ankle as soon as I put a foot on the floor, but I have to make sure Ruby’s okay. Visions of her tiny body lying in the forest ground are still dancing in front of my eyes, I know I won’t be able to get back to sleep if don’t at least put my mind at ease.

I light up every lamp in my bedroom and leave the door open behind me when I tip-toe in the hallway. I can hear my dad snoring from behind my parent’s bedroom door. Once I reach my sister’s door, I open it slowly and peek inside.

It’s dark and quiet, her bed is unmade and...empty. I can feel panic rising, already imagining the worst case scenario, flashes of my nightmare coming back to me, a man in the shadow running after her, laughing as he brings a knife to her stomach and stabs her.

I dash to my parent’s door and don’t even bother knocking before barging into their room.

“Ruby’s gone.” I try to keep my tone even but I can’t help the break in my voice.

“What the--?” My dad mumbles before fully waking up. “Craig? What’s going on?”

“Ruby. It’s Ruby, she’s gone, her bed’s empty.” I manage to say. My knees are getting weak and I have to hold myself up to the door frame.

I’m not especially close to my sister, she’s three years younger than me and we mostly brush shoulders when we walk past each other in the house, only teaming up together when our parents are caught in a fight. On normal days, I’m her stupid older brother who doesn’t understand that Zayn Malik has to be her future husband. Right now, she’s my baby sister whom I need to protect at all cost.

My mom has woken up too and looks at me with a sad smile. “Craig, honey. Ruby’s at Heidi’s sleepover, she’s perfectly fine.”

I feel so ridiculous, I don’t usually freak out about anything. But here I am, fighting back tears after thinking someone hurt my sister. “Oh.” That’s all I can say. I just stand there, with both of my parents looking at me worriedly.

“Are you okay?” my mom asks.

“Yeah, I just-- I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” I make a step toward the hallway, ready to go back to my room and probably hit my head on the wall until I stop feeling so ridiculous.

“You know you can talk to us if you need to. What you saw the other day... It can fuck someone up.” Dad says.

I freeze. “Are you saying I’m fucked up?” He wouldn’t be totally wrong, I _have_ been feeling pretty fucked up since the murder scene, but hearing it said out loud only makes me want to prove him wrong.

“No no, sweetie.” Mom swats my dad on the arm and glares at him. “All we’re saying is that if you ever feel like you need help, we’re here for you. Alright?” She gives me a sleepy smile.

I shift on one foot to another, not used to get this kind of talk from my parents. “’Kay. I’m good though. Sorry for waking you up.” I mumble.

Back in my room, I lie on my back and stare at my ceiling. Knowing Ruby is safe has calmed me. Still, the dread in the pit of my stomach hasn’t faded and I doubt I’ll be able to fall back asleep. The glow-in-the-dark stars that I glued there years ago are shining faintly. I remember being nine years old and standing on my bed trying to arrange them in actual constellations. Some stars must have fallen out over the years though, because I can’t recognize any. With my hands behind my head, I think about the murders. The girl Kenny and I found was a college student, Amanda Johnson, she’d just went back home for the summer. She was last seen going for a run around town before ending up killed by some sicko. I didn’t know her personally although I think I saw her at school when I was still a freshman.

I wonder if Kenny is as affected as I am by all this and decide to shoot him a text. Despite the late hour, he answers me almost right away. A few messages later and we agree to meet at the mall tomorrow afternoon.

***

The morning after, my dad looks at me from over his newspaper. I didn’t manage to sleep again after the nightmare so I decided to get up when I heard my parents getting ready for work.

“What?” I was looking at him when I spoke and now there’s cheerios all over the table. My dad grunts at the mess and watches me gather all my cereals in my bowl. He then hands me the newspaper.

“You should read this.” Eloquent as ever, that’s Thomas Tucker for you. I glance over the page and for a second I hate my dad for ruining my morning before remembering it’s not his fault. The headline says in big bold letters “COLORADO KILLER STRIKES AGAIN”. The gut wrenching feeling in my stomach is back full force as I skim over the article. A man was found dead last evening in Conifer, presented in the same fashion as the previous victims.

I put down the paper and notice my dad is staring at me with a concerned look.

“At least the bastard ain’t in town anymore,” he says. I have to agree with him. As terrible as these murders are, it’s quite a relief to know the killer is out of South Park, for now. I shudder. I hope the police will put a stop to this madness soon.

****  
  


I meet up with Kenny at the mall and I buy slushies for the both of us. We sit on a bench and watch people pass by for a while, occasionally commenting on someone’s looks (good or bad) or pointing out funny things, like that one kid struggling to carry a giant octopus plushie. As far as I can tell, Kenny seems okay. I’m still impressed by the way he reacted during that night, he kept his head on his shoulders while I was literally collapsing from the shock. I should follow his example and get interested into forensics and other morbid stuff so I can get nerves of steel too, I think to myself. I’m only being half serious here, I strongly intend to never lay eyes on a corpse ever again.

After an hour or so of idle chat, we run out of subjects of conversations that aren’t about the other night and we’re left just sitting on our bench in silence. I already mentioned how Kenny and I don’t need to speak to be comfortable around each other. This time, I can feel the palpable tension between us. We’re both trying to not bring up the elephant in the room. After a few minutes of this, Kenny decides to stop beating around the bush and breaks the silence.

“So how’ve ya been?” He’s wringing his hands together, he’s either more nervous than I expected or desperate for a smoke. The mall is a no smoke area but it’s the only place with free air conditioning, which is why most people are currently wandering around the place.

“Meh. Okay I guess.” I shrug. Out of all the people who asked me how I was in the past few days, Kenny is the only one I don’t mind answering. Still, I don’t mention anything about how sick I’ve been, the night terrors or the pounding in my head that has faded but is still driving me nuts. “Glad the fucker’s out of town. What about you, how are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’ll live.” Kenny chuckles as if he just told me a joke. I raise my eyebrows questioningly but he ignores me. “Believe it or not, I’m immune to gore. I was more worried about you than I was about myself. And I was sad for that girl, of course.”

Our conversation is interrupted when Nichole and Wendy come to a stop in front of us. They’re carrying a small dozen of shopping bags each and I can hear them sigh in relief as they drop them at their feet. They greet us and I wave back without replying. I hate being interrupted, especially now that Kenny and are finally talking about the murder.

The girls stay a bit for a chat and and I’m glad the conversation topics stay clear of touchy events like serial killers and murder victims. We end up making talk about our summer plans. I have none.

“Well now you have at least one thing planned,” Nichole tells me. “Token is having a party on Saturday.”

“How come he didn’t tell me himself? I’m his friend,” I say, a bit offended that I have to learn my buddy’s plans through his girlfriend. I’m not big on partying but I definitely need to unwind. I’ll be there.

Nichole scowls at me. I don’t think she likes me very much. “He only told me like, an hour ago, chill. He probably already texted you anyway.”

I check my phone and notice that I have an unread message from Token, with all the details about the party.

“A’ight, we’re in. See you on Saturday then.” He dismisses them and stands up to stretch. This guy is so skinny that I’m always afraid he’s going to snap whenever he does this.

The girls exchange an offended look, gather their bags and leave promptly. I roll my eyes. Kenny never knows when he’s being rude to people.

“They probably think you’re an asshole.” I say.

“I wasn’t the one at the end of Nichole’s glare,” he quips. “Let’s get outside, I need a smoke.”

I reluctantly follow him on the parking lot of the mall, cursing the black asphalt absorbing all the heat from the blinding sun. It must be at least 90 degrees outside and I regret leaving the sweet cold of the AC behind me. Of all the years I’ve lived in this podunk town in the middle of Colorado, I’ve never seen a summer like this one. I look up at the sky. Although the heat is unbearable, I feel energized by the sunlight, as if staying inside all these days had left me like a wilted plant.

Most people would assume that I spend a fairly good amount of time outside, considering that my skin is a few tones darker than your average white guy. They’re wrong, I like to stay inside and play video games as much as I can. I’m just naturally tanned for no reason, but at least I didn’t get my father’s ginger genes.

Kenny hands me his cigarette and I take a few drags. At least going out today gave me new things to occupy my mind with, petty problems like “What should I wear to Saturday’s party?” instead of thinking about a serial killer wandering in the region. I decide to hold on to these small worries with all my strength to keep my mind away from the darker ones.


	3. Gathering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's party time! Well, as much as Craig is able to fully enjoy a party anyway, especially in the presence of some people.  
> This fic has more than 200 hits now and this makes me want to write even more, thank you everyone for the nice comments and kudos.  
> I haven't added more illustrations yet but please stay around for when I do. If I edit some previous chapters to add art, I'll say so in the notes of the most recent chapter so you won't miss them even if you've read the chapter before I added it.
> 
> Also, who's excited for the new season starting tomorrow?

The days counting down to Saturday happen faster than expected, in between either staying in bed like any teenager in holidays would do and spending time with Clyde, Token, Tweek and Jimmy, sometimes with Kenny too although he seems busy with his own friends too. I’m still shaken by recent events but I refuse to let it ruin my well deserved summer break. My grades at school are average at best but this year, I decided to actually study so I don’t end up stuck at Denver’s community college. It has been hard, sitting my ass at a library table for hours instead of chilling with the guys, but in the end, I discovered that I can actually be good at school if I try hard enough. The problem is to bring myself to care about studying. Getting stuck in South Park for my whole life is, in my opinion, a fate sad enough to motivate me to get out of here. So I studied hard, improved my grades, and now I can sleep as much as I want to without feeling guilty about it.

Now if only the nightmares would stop. It seems like I’m stuck with these for a while.

Still, I want to make the most of what this summer has to offer and after a lot of changes of mind, I text Token confirming that I’ll be at his party tonight.

Token is one of the richest kids in town, crushing the stereotypes that black people are all poor  under the sole if his Armani shoes. Because his house is the biggest and he has an indoor swimming pool, he’s usually the one hosting parties. That and the fact that his parents are always on business trips which basically leaves him free to do as he wants while they’re away, the lucky bastard. Despite his parents’ wealth, Token has his head on his shoulders and is not the kind of person who brags about money. He knows when to keep his mouth shut about it. In a small town like South Park where the average inhabitant is white middle class, standing out by his money and skin color is not always easy and people are quick to bad mouth him.

I’m standing in front of my mirror, taking in my tired looks. My black hair falls flat from constantly wearing my chullo hat, my eyes are heavy with dark circles and I have a zit on my chin. Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully, people will be too intoxicated to notice my shitty appearance.

I’m not one to make a fuss about my general appearance, I usually pick whatever clothes are on top of the pile, usually a band t-shirt and jeans, and call it a day. I try to make an effort for parties though. I traded my regular jeans, battered and fraying at the end, for black skinny ones and I am wearing a navy blue button up shirt.

I ruffle my hair as best as I can and grab my dad’s car keys. I don’t work and my parents can’t afford another car so I mostly use public transports or get a ride from Clyde or Token when I can’t use the family car.

 

*******

 

As I mentioned before, Token’s place is huge. And yet it feels like it’s about to burst from all the people crammed inside. Acquaintances pat my shoulder or nod at me over their drink as I make my way through the mansion, looking for my friends.

I notice Marsh and his friends are here, of course. Cartman is hogging the keg to himself and belches loudly when I pass him. God, that guy is such a pig. I glance around looking for Kenny but he’s nowhere in sight.

“Hey Craig.” Stan greets me. He’s got an arm wrapped around Kyle’s shoulders, and seems to be relying on him to not fall over. “Wassup? Looking for Kenny?”

“Hey. Yeah, have you seen him?” I grab a cup on the table next to us and fill it with punch.

“He’s around. Try the kitchen or the patio maybe? He’s probably getting high outside.” Stan replies.

Kyle nods toward the red plastic cup I’m holding, “It’s been spiked.”, he informs me.

I purse my lips and put the cup down.

I usually don’t mind drinking but my head has finally stopped hurting, no way I’m ruining this oh-so-welcome relief with alcohol. The loud music is almost too much as it it.

I thank Stan and Kyle and make a beeline to the kitchen.

Bebe and Wendy are there, apparently in a hushed conversation over what appears to be vodka shots, but neither Kenny or my friends are there.

 

I make my way through the main corridor and notice Token as well as Tweek and Jimmy amongst other people, cheering loudly at Clyde in the pool table room (did I mention Token is loaded as fuck?). He’s playing against a guy that I know is a senior at school and seems to be winning.

Token notices my entrance, greets me and offers me a glass of wine that I decline. I notice he’s dressed even fancier than usual, the guy is wearing a tuxedo for goodness’ sake. I’m glad I decided to upgrade my looks for tonight or I would have felt inadequate.

“I have to drive home.” I say as an excuse. He knows damn well that I could just crash on his couch if I ever changed my mind and decided to drink, which is a privilege for being part of his close friends group, but he doesn't question me. I watch the rest of the game with the guys, cheering with them whenever Clyde pulls out some impressive tricks.

 

When I finally manage to reach the other side of Token’s house without being interrupted by drunk acquaintances who are “sooo glad” to see me, I can finally step outside through the back door. The patio is a bit farther away, separated from the garden by a small dry stone wall. Despite the surrounding darkness, I notice Kenny immediately thanks to his orange parka. The night is warm and stuffy, I wonder how he can stand to be wearing this battered thing almost all the time. He’s talking to someone but I can’t really make out who it is until I get closer. The glowing red embers of cigarettes should have been enough of a hint though. It’s not usual for these guys to be around at parties, but it seems like they make an exception for Token’s. The Goths are most of the time a bunch of antisocial cynics and like to keep to themselves.

“...more interested in the meaning of the totems.” I hear the tallest of them say as I get closer. I think his name is Michael but I can’t be sure, these guys are usually referred as the Goths as if they are a single entity.

They all turn around when they hear me approach. The four of them are so pale their skin almost glows in the moonlight, the hollow of their eyes accentuated by black eye-liner make them look like skeletons staring at me.

The tallest and oldest of them, Michael, has curly black hair and a crooked nose. He reminds me of Robert Smith, in an even more depressed way. His cane is resting against the garden lounge chair he’s sitting on. No one actually knows if he uses it as a fashion statement or if he actually needs it. Sitting next to him with her legs crossed is Henrietta, a plump girl always dressed in black lacy dresses who likes to smoke using a cigarette holder. Then there’s the guy with the red and black hair falling on his face. I think his name is Pete. Finally, probably the youngest person at this party tonight is the middle school kid all dressed in black. I never heard anyone refer to him as anything else than “small goth”. His black hair hides half of his face and a pendant shaped like a tree branch is hanging at his neck.

 

 

 

None of them say a word until Kenny notices me too and jumps on his feet to greet me.

“Good timing Craig, these fellas and I were just talking about the other night.” He grabs me by the sleeve and pushes me down on a garden chair next to him. “They want to know more about what we saw.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course they do.” Between Kenny’s passion for forensics and the Goths’ morbid fascination for death, I’m not surprised they started talking about the murders. I personally would prefer not to think about such grim things. Since I spent most of the night looking for Kenny, I make an effort to indulge him despite wanting to retreat back inside, away from the ghostly atmosphere that these guy seem to carry everywhere they go.

“So I was telling them the details of how we found Amanda Johnson.” Kenny continued.

That’s a conversation I definitely don’t want to have right now, I came to this party to change my mind from all the recent events and now I’m getting sucked right back in there. I try to signal Kenny that I’d rather we go inside without being too obvious but he doesn’t get the message and carries on talking. “I know you’re still queasy about it so I won’t go back on the details.” Well, thanks. “ Still, don’t you find it intriguing how the scene was displayed?”

“I was too busy puking my guts out to find it “intriguing”, Kenny.” I say making the air quotes with my fingers. Biting sarcasm, that’s what he gets for ignoring my signals.

Kenny laughs embarrassed and apologizes. I should have guessed he’s drunk like the vast majority of people here tonight.

“We think it’s a ritual.” Pete says, flicking the ashes of his cigarette off. “The candle makes it obvious. Maybe a satanist one, but won’t be sure until I compare the totems with the ones in my Satanic Bible.” Henrietta and Michael nod in agreement at that. The youngest one remains silent in his corner.”

“I’ll check the stars alignments of each murder, maybe it’ll give us a clue to what kind of ritual this is.” Henrietta adds.

Kenny grins at all of them. “Sweet, it’s really cool having guys like you around. If we all try to solve this, maybe we’ll actually be able to help the FBI. How cool would that be?”

“We have no interest in partaking in such things.” Michael says. “Solving this murder case is not our goal. We only want to know what dark magic this person is practicing so we can learn more about it.”

This arrogant asshole’s comment sets me off.

“What, so you can kill people too? Are you fucking nuts?” I seethe.

“Okay poser, maybe we find death appealing as an aesthetic, but as followers of LaVey’s satanic church, murder is not something we condone, unless it’s self defense.” Pete interjects. “ Hating conformists does not mean we’re complete savages.”

Michael and Henrietta nod in agreement and keep smoking silently. The fourth of them just seems lost in his thoughts, playing idly with his pendant.

Alright so maybe this guy has a point, because they dress in black doesn’t automatically makes them dangerous, in fact they’ve always been pretty decent over all the years I’ve known them. Cold and distant, yes, but they never hurt anyone as far as I know. I don’t want to be the bigoted asshole judging them by how they dress.

All of them including Kenny want to dig deeper in what’s been happening recently, try to put up the pieces of this macabre story, but I don’t. I want to go back to my normal life, a regular teenager fucking around and playing too much video games, worrying about my acne and homework.

“So what,” I ask Kenny, “You want to play detective and actually solve this case by yourself?”

“Why not? It’s summer, I have nothing better to do and I really don’t like the idea of a murderer walking freely. No one does, and when did authorities actually help do something around South Park? Never, and you know it. I say we have as much chances as them to solve this case.” Does this guy even have any idea of what danger is? “So,” Kenny continues, “who’s with me?” He grins as if he had the best idea in the world instead of a very stupid one as he asks that.

I can’t help but snort, Kenny’s optimism never fails to remind me of how negative I can be. Still, I say nothing, decided to not follow him on this, recklessness is not my thing.After a moment, Kenny gives me this look, eyebrows raised and mouth pouting until I have to concede.

“Alright, alright, stop giving me the puppy eyes, dammit. I’ll help you.” Damn him and damn his ability to hit right on my soft spot to make me do stupid shit.

“I can help”, Henrietta shrugs. “Like, whatever, I don’t care. I was going to research stuff anyway.” Her three friends shrug too but don’t volunteer. Despite wanting to learn more about the rituals on the murder scenes, Pete doesn't seem interested in actually finding out who committed them.

Kenny doesn’t seem fazed by this lack of enthusiasm.

“Awesome! I’ll keep in touch with you guys, now if you’ll excuse me, there is alcohol just waiting for me to be consumed.” He turns to me. “Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

 

*******

 

Back in the living room, Kenny and I chat for some time before he joins Stan, Kyle and Cartman and I find my way to the kitchen looking for some snacks.

Some people are experimenting with weird cocktails that would surely induce a pretty bad headache in the morning. In a corner, I see Tweek sitting by himself wringing his hands together and just about to lose it.

I’ve known Tweek my whole life and I can tell when his anxiety is hitting him full force. He used to shake constantly and be extremely jumpy as a kid. His parents providing him with coffee didn’t help, especially as a nine years old.

Despite being outright weird, Tweek is a good guy who’s always here for his friends. He’s learned to overcome his social anxiety over the years, he can even go to parties now, at least for a few hours. Right now, the loud music and constant interactions with people   seem to have had the better of him; he’s shaking violently with his eyes tightly shut and he’s grasping at strands of his hair.

Because he’s part of my close friends group and is also Token’s friend, Tweek is one of the few persons who has an unconditional access to Token’s bedroom during parties so he can have a quiet corner to retreat to.

After a few minutes reassuring him and coaxing him into following me upstairs, that’s where I take him.

Once I close the bedroom door behind us, I stay to chat a bit with Tweek until he’s calmed down and can stay by himself.

I know some people see me as insensitive and cold, and that’s probably how I am to some extend, but there’s more to me than that. I try to be there for my friends, and right now Tweek needs me.

“Are you going to be alright?” I ask him. “I can drive you home if you don’t want to stay here.”

“Nh, don’t worry about me. I’ll just play videogames until everyone else is gone.”, he assures me. “Go back downstairs Craig, I s-swear I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Text me or Token if you need anything, Though Token’s pretty sloshed... Just text me alright?”

Tweek gives me a shaky smile and ushers me to the corridor.

“Okay. Thanks Craig, h-have fun.”

 

I squeeze through the crown until I’m back in the room with the pool table. Token is still there, swirling whiskey on the rocks listening to Jimmy talking to him.

Wendy and Bebe join us at some point, giggling and holding on to each other to stay upright. Red (her real name is Rebecca but we started calling her Red in 4th grade because of her hair color) follows them while laughing and shaking her head. She’s wearing a really short dress and I cough awkwardly when she stumbles against me as she enters the circle of people gathered around the pool table. I’m not especially interested in her, in fact I’m not interested in anyone at the moment, but I’m a regular teenager; I’m weak around hot people and Red is extremely hot. Still, she’s drunk and believe it or not, I’m a decent human being. I step on the side and give her more space. “Wendy I thought you were above getting shitfaced, you’re supposed to be our voice of reason.”

“Watch me not giving a damn, Red, just watch me.”, Wendy slurs.

“Anyway.”, Red says, rolling her eyes at her friends. “It’s time for me to get back home, I have a morning shift tomorrow, I was just saying bye. Thanks for the party.”

“How are you going home?”, Token asks her, always trying to be a good host.

Red dismisses his concern with a wave of her hand. “Walkin’, South Park isn't that big.”

I can’t help but step in. “With all that happened recently? Are you really going to walk alone at night, intoxicated, with a serial killer on the run?”, I ask dumbfounded.

She purses her lips and frowns. “I guess not...”. Her gaze is unfocused, she’s swaying slightly from one side to another. She’s drunk and planning to walk alone at night to go home. I glance at my phone and notice it’s already two in the morning. I'm probably the only person able to drive in this house so I offer to drive her home, which she accepts wholeheartedly. I'm getting tired of being around so many people anyway. We make a quick round of the house to say goodbye to our respective friends before taking our leave.

We ride in silence in the night, except for the times she has to indicate me where to turn. She lives on the opposite side of town and I don’t regret my offer to bring her back safely home. Once I park in front of her house, I watch her walk to her door and wait until she’s safely inside before I drive home.

Tonight has been...strange. I had fun, going out definitely lifted up my mood a bit, and yet I can’t shake this feeling of unease that stuck with me the whole time I was at Token’s. This chat with the Goths  didn't help me so much to change my mind and now I agreed to help Kenny in his investigations.

I have no idea what he plans to do, moreover the idea of associating with Elvira and company isn't what I call the idea of a good time. They used to mock these vampire kids back in primary school, but I’d say they’re doing a good job at sucking the happiness out of a fifty feet radius around them.

 

 


	4. Vanishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you'll find siblings bonding together (or not), more mystery and some dorky moments despite the general atmosphere of the story.  
> And non-objective portrayal of Kyle who is precious but Craig doesn't seem to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, first update in about 10 months!  
> First, I want to apology for not updating earlier, my life took a huge turn this year, between finding a job, moving out of my parents and getting my own place, having a busy schedule etc, so much adulting! My creativity took a serious toll after that, my inspiration dried up for a few months but I'm slowly getting back to it, whether it's art or writing.
> 
> If you're still here after all this, time, thank you for reading my story, I promise I will do everything I can to finish it. I only have no idea when this will be. I will also try to continue illustrating this story.  
> Don't hesitate to point out misspellings, wrong use of idioms or incoherent stuff.

I wake up tired from tossing and turning in bed until my legs are tangled in my bed sheet. Despite my decision to not drink the night before, my head is pounding as if I’m nursing the worst possible hangover.  
Both of my parents are working on Saturdays so I’m the one ending up with the chore of driving Ruby to her field hockey practice. She’s already dressed, standing in the living room with her gear bag next to her feet when I finally emerge from my bedroom with puffy eyes and wild hair.  
“Hurry up, practice starts in twenty minutes!”, she scowls when she notices that I’m still wearing my pyjama pants and is nowhere near ready. It’s Saturday morning, dammit, why is she so eager to run everywhere? I flip her off and grab a toast in the kitchen.  
When I’m finally ready, Ruby is bouncing on her feet, a hand on the car door handle, waiting for me to unlock it.  
“Geez calm down, it’s just practice, you can tell your coach it’s my fault if you’re late.” I sigh when she tells me to drive faster.  
“No you don’t understand.”, Rudy mumbles.  
“Explain, then.” I don’t have the patience to beat around the bush with her, she’s usually the kind of person who goes straight to the point.  
I look at her and notice the pink gloss on her lips and... Well okay, my sister is only twelve years old and I could have sworn she was as flat as Kansas just yesterday. I doubt she suddenly grew tits overnight and I remember Wendy Testaburger stuffing her bra when we were in 6th grade. I focus back on the road and clear my throat.  
“Alright, what’s his name?”  
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her crossing her arms. “Oh my god Craig, shut up!”. Yup, called it, there’s definitely a guy. A moment pass before Ruby speaks up again. “Ike.”  
“Broflovski? Isn’t he this annoying know-it-all kid?” Truth be told, both of the Broflovski brothers are insufferable walking encyclopedias.  
“He’s clever.” She stammers before turning the radio up, making clear that the conversation ends here.

 

When I drop Ruby off to the sports hall, I make sure she gets safely inside the building before leaning back against the car hood and I light up a cigarette. On the other side of the parking lot, I spot Kyle dropping off his younger sibling too. Ike is tall for his age, almost reaching Kyle’s chin, with black hair and black eyes. He’s the kind of people that you can tell will be handsome once he properly hits puberty but for now, he still looks like a scrawny kid confused by his body’s growth spurt. Ruby could have worse taste in guys.  
I notice Kyle shows the same caution as I did with Ruby. He glances around the parking lot, waits for Ike to pass the entrance door and walks toward me.  
“Hi.”, he says. I greet him and continue smoking, not really in the mood for small talk. Kyle and I are not friends. We’re not enemies either, we just happen to not particularly have anything in common except for our friendship with Kenny. I always thought he was a stuck up self righteous guy and he probably thinks I’m an asshole. The few conversations we have usually are awkward and curt and I can feel this one won’t be much different.  
“What do you want?”, I ask. The faster we get to the point, the faster I can leave. He seems surprised that I knew right away that he came to me for a reason, as if his constant shifting from one foot to another wasn’t a give away.  
Kyle points to my cigarette. “Can I have one? My vape is broken”  
I roll my eyes but still hand him one of my Marlboros. “Cut the crap Broflovski, what are you bothering me for?”  
I jangle my keys impatiently waiting for him to answer.  
“I saw Bradley earlier,” he finally says.  
“Who the fuck is Bradley?”  
“Henrietta’s brother? We used to play with him when we were kids. He was asking everyone in my street if we saw his sister.”  
I don’t remember ever hanging out with this guy, I usually preferred to stay on my own whenever the guys went to play with Marsh’s clique. Bradley Biggle reminded me of Butters, the kind of guy people played with out of pity more than friendship. I used to think I was too cool for them. Now we’ve all grown up, I just don’t care.  
“She was at Token’s last night, do you know where she could be?” Kyle continues.  
“Probably having some fun time at the graveyard, reviving the dead, summoning Satan, whatever.”  
“Dude! Her brother is freaking out, that’s not funny. How would you feel if something happened to your sister?” He drags anxiously on his cigarette and looks at the building where both of our siblings are.  
I think about the fright from the other night and frown. “I get it. Have you tried checking in with the other Goth clique?”  
“Neither Bradley and I know how to contact them. I don’t even know where they live.”  
“Kenny might know.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean that Kenny and I spent some time with Henrietta and her friends last night and he seemed pretty chummy with them.”  
“Really? That’s weird, he never mentioned that.” I almost point out that Kenny has a life outside of his friendship with Kyle but manage to keep my mouth shut.  
“I’m heading to his place right now, I’ll ask him if he can contact Henrietta’s friends.” I say. Kyle squints at me before agreeing and leaving. To be fair, I mostly want to avoid for Kenny to be woken up by an angry Kyle barging into his room asking why he has other friends than him and Stan.

 

Kenny’s house looks more like a squat than anything homey, with its crackled walls, unhinged shutters and sunburned weeds growing in what was once a pathway to the door. It’s a miracle that the McCormick siblings turned out somewhat decent human beings considering the shit they grew up in. Kenny told me about the time his parents rented the garage to drug dealers who turned it into a meth lab.  
I make my way through the broken cans as best and I can and knock on Kenny’s window so I don’t have to talk to his parents.  
Once I’m in, Kenny closes the curtain behind me, leaving his bedroom in subdued light. It takes some time for my eyes to adjust after the bright sun light from the outside. He’s still wearing his pyjama, or what I assume is a pyjama. I hope it’s not boxer shorts.  
Kenny has a folder open on his bed where I can see cut outs of newspaper articles.  
“What’s all this?”, I ask.  
“Everything I could find about the murders. I also asked Kyle to print me articles from the Internet, he’s supposed to drop them off this afternoon.”  
“Speaking of Broflovski.” Kenny makes a face at me, like every time I use his friend’s family name instead of first name. “I saw him this morning, told me that the goth girl is missing.”  
“Henrietta? No way! She was with us just last night. That can’t be!” Kenny interjects. “Did the police say something?”  
“I don’t think they know yet. Her family is asking around about her though. Wait, what are you doing?” Kenny is pulling down his shorts (thank god they were pyjamas) and changing into his old pair of battered jeans. He picks up a tee shirt off the floor and sniffs it before pulling it over his head.  
“We’re going to see Michael and the others, maybe they know something.” Kenny says. I didn’t even have the chance to tell him why I came here that he’s already jumping into action, answering my questions before I asked them. He darts through his door to the corridor and I hear him swear. He’s back inside before I have time to follow him.  
“Hey you got a gum?”  
Puzzled, I hand him the pack I always keep in my pocket. Kenny shoves three chewing gums in his mouth and smiles sheepishly when he notices my confusion.  
“We’re out of toothpaste. Come on.” He gestures to me to follow him through his window.

I don’t know where any of the Goth clique members live so I let Kenny drive. We stop in a small street in the center of South Park, in front of an old building. The first floor is occupied by a decrepit book store that I never noticed before. I was expecting us to enter the shop, I wouldn’t be surprised to walk in on some satanic ritual or whatever these guys are up to in their free time. Instead, we stop by the door next to the shop.  
Kenny rings the bell. Once inside, we climb the stairs to the third floor where Michael is waiting for us on the landing.  
“Oh joy, it’s you again.” he drawls. “Well, come in, I guess.”

Michael’s apartment is exactly how I imagined the place a person like him would live in. The decoration is mostly dark fabric draped roughly anywhere it was possible to put it. The place is cheap, I can tell the furniture comes from thrift shops and was painted black afterwards.  
“I didn’t know you had your own place.” I say dumbly.  
“I moved out of my parents when I turned 18 last year.” Michael points at his cane “My social security disability helps a lot.” So that’s one mystery solved.  
“Fucking sweet.” Kenny marvels. He has already claimed a seat on the crackled leather couch. “I bet you’re throwing mad parties in there.”  
Michael shrugs. “It’s usually just us, Pete, Firkle, Henry’ and me. We usually don’t partake in mundane things like teenage parties.” I scoff at his wording.  
“Sure you don’t.” Kenny winks.  
“What is this, an interview?” A voice says behind me. Pete is standing in the living room doorway, drying his damp hair with a towel, visibly just out of the shower.  
“Oh hey,” Kenny waves at him, “To be honest, we’re here because we have some questions for you guys, so it’s good that you’re here too Pete. Do you live here?”  
“I wish. What kind of questions?”  
“It’s about Henrietta”, I say.

 

***

When we leave Michael’s place, we don’t know much more about Henrietta’s whereabouts, but we know plenty about their friendship, and even more about Pete and Michael’s relationship. The two of them have been dating since 8th grade and watching them get lost in each other’s eye behind closed door is like watching a re-enactment of the Twilight movies, with less sparkles.  
Under their cold attitude, the Goth clique deeply care about each other, I could tell Pete and Michael were shaken when Kenny told them their friend was missing. Their voice cracked when they phoned Firkle to tell him the news.

I look back at the old door with the cracked paint before Michael closes it behind us. his jaw is clenched, his eyes hard with grief. I want to tell him that Henrietta is okay, but Kenny tugs at my sleeve, beckoning me to follow him down the stairs and out of the cranky building.  
The adjacent book store smells of old paper, forgotten knowledge waiting to be unearthed by curious buyers. I glance at the window and see nothing but towers of books threatening to collapse on itself, looming over a small desk at the back of the room. It’s so dark, but for a second, I think I can see someone sitting behind it. I rub my eyes to clear my vision, but the shop is empty.

Driving back to our neighbourhood takes longer than expected. There’s a road barrage, the police is stopping cars, asking questions about Henrietta. The officer who stops Kenny’s car recognizes us from that night in the woods and wishes us well. Kenny puts on a show at being extra polite with her, winking and all, while I try to remember ever seeing her face. Truth be told, the only persons I paid attention to after running out of the woods when we found Amanda Johnson’s body were Kenny and my parents. She could have been wearing glow sticks as a hat, it would have been all the same to me.  
When we drive past Henrietta’s home, Bradley and his parents are outside, huddled close to each other and talking to what appears to be FBI agents.

 

That night, I dream about earthquakes and being swallowed down under the ocean, taken by violent waves of cold water. I can almost taste the salt when I wake up drenched in sweat, my bed sheets clinging to my body like a shroud.  
I run to open my window and breathe in the fresh air. The waxing moon is welcoming, somehow calming me and letting oxygen flow easier into my lungs. I look at my bedroom. The sheets on my bed are tangled, twisting into long pale limbs, inviting me to come back to them so they can cling to me tighter and pull me back to the dark places of my consciousness.  
I turn the light on to get rid of the remnants of the nightmare, get dressed and slip through my window.

Wandering alone at night is a reckless thing to do, I know that, so I avoid the streets and cut through the neighbourhood’s gardens, guided by the moonlight. I knock at Kenny’s window. Luckily, he’s not asleep and he lets me in for the second time today.  
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kenny says when he properly gets a look at me.  
“I had a bad dream.”  
“Aw, should I comfort you?”, he opens his arms and pretends to give me a hug. Actually, he goes for it, probably expecting me to push him back. I’m the one who wasn’t expecting him to hug me. This is awkward.  
I clear my throat. “Um, I was just wondering if I could stay over, I need to take my mind off all that stuff, and my house is way too quiet. We could play video games. Or... I could play video games and you can sleep if you want.”  
Kenny nods. “ f’course. What d’you wanna play? I’m not tired, we can hang out all night if you want.” He smiles and gets his old Gamecube controllers out of his closet. He once told me this was the only console that ever lasted more than a month in his house, the stuff is unbreakable.

After playing for a while, we lie down on his mattress and just talk, whispering like kids at a sleepover party. We can hear is father snore from across the wall and I find this strangely comforting.  
“So, tell me.” Kenny starts. “I’ve heard some rumors about you and Red, especially after Token’s party. Clyde even called you her knight in shining armor.”  
I whack at him but he rolls out of my reach.  
“You fuckers, Red and I are related.”  
“You and Red are _WHAT_?” Kenny sits up and gapes at me. “Since when?”.  
“Since forever, duh. Our moms are cousins, so I guess that makes us, uh, second cousins?”  
I can’t really blame Clyde for forgetting about this, I forget about it too sometimes. We never go family gatherings and I’ve always seen Red as more of a classmate than an actual member of my family.  
“Damn, and I was rooting for you and her to become a thing.” Kenny sighs into his pillow.  
“What the _fuck_ Kenny?”  
“Can’t a pal care about his buddy’s well being and wish him to be happy with a girl? Can’t he, my friend, my pal, my buddy?”  
“Oh my god”, I groan, “firstly: what the fuck Kenny?", I repeat, "And secondly, I’m fine on my own don’t worry about me.” Ah. I’m actually way too nervous to ask a girl out, in fact, it makes me so ill at ease that I don’t think I even want to ask a girl out ever. But Kenny doesn’t need to know that.  
“Alright alright, see, that’s the thing with you, Craig. You never talk about this stuff, so of course, everyone wonders about your love life. Add to that your constant brooding attitude-”  
“I don’t br-” I want to interject.  
Kenny holds a finger up. “Yes you do, let me finish. Add to that your _constant brooding attitude_ and BAM, that makes you that stereotypically mysterious, slightly depressed dark haired guy that all the girls want. And I’m not inventing anything, have you seen the way Millie looks at you?”  
What the hell. I’m not... He’s got to be kidding me. Surely, I would have noticed if girls were swooning at me. Right?  
“Millie?”  
“Oh my god Craig, how oblivious are you? Stan swears he saw her french kissing your picture from her yearbook. All I’m saying is that you should go for it and exploit your looks to your advantage.”  
“I’m- I’m not-”  
“Pssh, nonsense. Look at me, I’m half as good looking as you and I still get all the chicks. But you, dear ol’ Craig, it’s just wasted potential.” Kenny is leaning on his elbow, moving his hands wildly as he talks while I just lie down completely baffled. Then, I say the stupidest thing that comes to my mind.  
“You’re better looking than me though.”  
Fuck, this is getting weird. Kenny raises his eyebrows and a smile tugs at his lips. “Heh. I guess I am.”  
He doesn’t insist after that, he only sits up and suggest that we settle for another hour of playing on his old TV, which I am grateful for. Kenny goes to the kitchen to fetch cookies and soda, and we set up pillows on the floor. From the corner of my eye, I see Kenny smile as he presses the start button. His skin is almost translucent in the pale artificial light of the TV screen, except for his freckles that seem to stand out more starkly than usual. Inside of me, a tiny, tiny thing moves, nothing bigger than a grain of sand, a particle of dust, but it’s enough to set the gears to work, and I wonder if...  
Kenny turns to look at me witch a questioning look so I blink a few times and focus on the character selection screen appearing in front of me.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at http://maxxiegalaxy.tumblr.com  
> I track the tag "fic: the wakening" if you ever want to talk about it on tumblr


End file.
